


Behind Closed Doors

by Jadis



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M, canon mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-25 02:06:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadis/pseuds/Jadis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spackling Episodes in Season 1: This chapter takes place after the “Strange New World” episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When Last We Met

  
  
T’Pol had excused herself for the evening. Archer and Tucker sat across from one another, nursing beers after the latest mission.  
  
Trip was still kicking himself for having fallen so completely under the spell of the pollen hallucinogenic, Tropolisine. T’Pol had accepted his apology, but part of him was just sick because he had not trusted his Captain. Even under the influence, Trip knew what it had cost Archer to use those words: “How long have we known each other?”  
  
Down on the planet, a tiny part of Trip’s brain had tried to cling to the warmth, and the memory of their former life together that Archer had attempted to reach out to. However, the larger part of his mind, paranoid beyond belief, thought the Captain was lying to him – purposely using their history to help T’Pol in her “mission” to kill them all.  
  
Apparently, when Archer could see that even their shared personal relationship wasn’t going to work, he had moved on, recalling a mission on Titan, when Trip’s EV pack had frozen up. Again, he beseeched Trip to trust him – “You obeyed that order because you trusted me. I’m asking you to trust me again.”

God know's he'd wanted too, desperately needed too. In fact, he had wanted their relationship to revert to the days of old ever since Jon had picked him for the Enterprise mission. However, it just never seemed to happen. Archer remained emotionally aloof and Trip had respected the unspoken request to keep their relationship strictly at the friendship level.  
  
However, Trip mused, apparently Archer hadn’t completely forgotten those times. In a moment of desperation, Archer had called upon those feelings, using them in an attempt to bring Trip back from the edge.  
  
  
~~~~  
  
  
Archer watched his Chief Engineer kicking himself for what had taken place planet side. He had tried to reassure Trip that it could have happened to anyone. He saw the unspoken leap to Tucker’s eyes, defying Archer to say he wouldn’t be just as heartsick if the situation had been reversed.  
  
He had to admit the entire situation had been harrowing. Archer felt like a heel himself, for resorting to what he saw as emotional blackmail to try and reach Trip. And when that hadn’t worked, he’d been the one to give the order for T’Pol – she also affected by the psychotropic pollen – to shoot Trip. He had lightly commented to Hoshi that he sure hoped the Vulcan knew the difference between ‘stun’ and ‘kill.’ Nevertheless, there had been real fear there – deep in his gut, and elsewhere – places he chose not to examine too closely.  
  
  
Silently, Archer continued studying Trip, watching memories course through the younger man. Archer felt his heart skip a beat as Trip’s eyes grew more lidded as he returned the favor, and studied his Captain. He spoke, unable to maintain the silence, when Trip ran his tongue over his bottom lip.  
  
“You have something on your mind, Mister?” Archer asked, confident he knew the answer. There were some things you never quite forgot – and Charles “Trip” Tucker III about to make a move on you was one of them.  
  
Like a tangible scent, Archer was aware of Trip’s arousal – he could faintly detect the pheromones reverberating off his chief engineer – and long time friend.  
  
“How long has it been, Captain?” Trip asked, eyes smoldering, his voice dripping with honey.  
  
Forcing himself not to show a reaction to the deliberate cadence of the word “Captain,” Archer drew a long, steadying breath, teasing his chief engineer with his lack of response.  
  
When Trip didn’t flinch, Archer relented, “To what are you referring, Commander?”  
  
The silence continued. Frustrated, but more intrigued than he cared to admit, Archer acquiesced, “My sexual activities in general? Or my sexual activities with you?”  
  
Trip smiled, pleased with the response, “Never were one to back away, were you Jon? That’s one of the things I found most attractive about you.” He moved forward in his seat, almost but not quite touching Archer’s knees. “I believe you know to what I’m referring, Captain,” his voice alive with the sound of magnolia trees whispering on a warm summer night.  
  
Archer sat back, thrusting his legs even closer to Tucker’s, tipping his head in concession. “Long enough that you didn’t used to have that rank to abuse me with,” his own eyes dangerously dark, his tone as smooth as silk.  
  
“Is the rank a problem, Captain?”  
  
Archer didn’t answer. Two could play at that game.  
  
Trip lowered his eyes. “Is that what you think it is that I’m doing, Sir?”  
  
Frowning, Archer rubbed his eyes. If he were honest, hearing the rank used was damned erotic. Yet, his command dictated that he consider whether having a relationship, or even just a casual encounter with a member of his crew, let alone a fellow officer, might be dangerous to the ship.  
  
His eyes opened as Trip slipped out of his chair, kneeling between Archer’s legs. Trip touched his inner thigh in the sensitive areas Archer knew he remembered from their past. “Dammit, Trip,” Archer began, no heat behind the statement.  
  
Encouraged, Trip slid his hands further up Archer’s legs. “Well?” he asked. “I’ve missed you, Jonathon.”  
  
As his own body reacted to the caresses of his former lover, Archer suddenly sat up, grabbing Tucker’s wrists, “Dammit Trip, it was so long ago. Hell, you were just a pup.”  
  
Excitement burned in Tucker’s eyes, as he felt the heat coming off Archer, “It just means I’ve picked up a thing or two since then – things you might like.”  
  
Desire, rage, jealously flashed across Archer’s face as he stood, jerking Tucker with him, still clamping the engineer’s wrists in a viselike grip. His command be damned, he thought. His breathing grew heavy and his voice sounded harsh in his own ears, “I’ll only say this once Trip: if we are going to be together then it will be my way, on my terms.” He moved his mouth closer, smelling the pleasant yeasty warmth of Tucker’s breath. “Copy that, Commander?”  
  
There lips almost touching, Tucker rejoined, “I copy, Captain. What would those terms be?”  
  
Allowing himself a small luxury, Archer chewed softly on Tucker’s lip before replying. He felt his own erection surge against the soft material of his off-duty pants. “Never,” he whispered, “never use that tone when you call me Captain – unless we are in bed, or headed that direction. I don’t ever want to hear it on the bridge or in the company of others. Clear?”  
  
“Crystal,” Tucker breathed, straining for more contact.  
  
But Archer held him off, “Second: I am not interested in a passing fling with you Trip. I didn’t believe in casual encounters then, and I don’t now. If we are going to be together, then I want exclusivity, as least as far as other male partners are concerned. You want to fuck a woman, that’s fine. Just make sure you use protection.”  
  
“I’ve never understood why you differentiate the two Jon, but okay by me.”  
  
“Now,” Archer purred, pulling his chief engineer to him, erections throbbing to be released from confining cloth. “Commander – is the rank going to be a problem?” He inhaled deeply at the base of Trip’s neck, pleased to feel the engineer’s pulse beating wildly, in synch with the throbbing of his own body.  
  
“Why would it be a problem, Captain?” Tucker returned, nipping Archer’s ear as it passed by his mouth.  
  
“We were kids back then, Trip, or at least you were…” Archer trailed off remembering their days together in San Francisco, and how Trip used to tease him for taking advantage of a ‘young boy.’ “I’m your commanding officer now,” he commented, stating the obvious. “Our extra-curricular activities can’t interfere with that.”  
  
Even as he said the words, Archer knew, deep in his psyche, that it would interfere – just as it almost had today. There would be other times when one of them was sent on a potentially dangerous mission. While they had gotten through today’s episode reasonably enough, he was unsure how his own response might have been different had they actively been lovers.  
  
Nevertheless, the blood pounding in his ears, and the longing for the incredible passion that had once flared between them was unbearably seductive. He knew that Trip would lie too, and say their relationship wouldn’t get in the way – in fact, he was counting on it. Archer only hoped they would figure out how to handle it as situations warranted.  
  
“Captain, I solemnly swear not to let ‘us’ get in the way of our duty to the ship,” he lowered long lashes. “Now, will you let go of my hands so I can put them where they’ll do the most good?”  
  
Archer released Tucker’s hands.  
  
>>>>>>>>>>>*<<<<<<<<<<<  
  
Tucker breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of his former and future lover.  Lovingly he stripped off the knit shirt, allowing himself a moment to gaze upon the well-formed chest of his Captain. Archer had aged gracefully. His body was harder now, fuller. Jonathon had lines on his face that weren’t there ten years ago, but then again, Trip figured he probably did too.  
  
As he began running his hands over Jonathon’s chest, his own breathing grew more shallow. He ran his finger around Jonathon’s already erect nipples, and Trip was suddenly aware of all the times he had been searching for Jonathan in his other conquests. For the first time he acknowledged that when he had mated with men, it was Jon’s face he always saw. While Jon hadn’t been his first male lover, he certainly had been the one that Trip just couldn’t forget.  
  
Trip grinned devilishly as Archer moaned, sinking back further in the chair, his head thrown back. “Lord, Jon, I’d almost forgotten how sensitive you are – your entire body is an erogenous zone.” Skillfully, his hands slid down, moving beneath the waistband of the trousers, picking up the lines of the “V” which would lead him to Jonathon’s throbbing erection.  
  
He took his time, combing his fingers through wiry hair, gently caressing it in a circling motion, enjoying the moans that burst from his commanding officer’s lips.  
  
“Trip,” Archer begged. “You’re killing me….”  
  
Sliding his hands around to Archer’s firm buttocks, Trip silently motioned for Archer to lift his hips, enabling Trip to slip off the trousers, and Jon’s standard issue briefs.  
  
“My God,” Trip breathed, taking in the sight and scent of Archer’s fully erect cock. He saw pre-cum glistening on the tip, and it took all his self- control not to greedily end his Captain’s torment. He looked up to see Jonathon watching him, his own breathing erratic.  
  
Keeping his eyes locked with Jonathon’s, he slowly licked the head of the moist penis. The heat was incredible, and when Jonathon moaned, thrusting his hips up, Trip almost came himself. “Tell me what you want, Captain,” Tucker drawled, their eyes still locked.  
  
Suddenly Archer came out of the seat, standing and pushing Tucker away, but only long enough to get his hands on Tucker’s clothes, pulling them off.  
  
Tucker found himself standing in front of his Captain, virtually naked, and very aroused. Archer pulled Tucker to him, their erections dueling as their hipbones met. “Mr. Tucker,” Archer began, pulling the affectionate nickname from their past, “I want you on your back, in my bed, begging me.  Is that clear?”  
  
“Crystal, sir” he stated, mockingly echoing their earlier conversation. “So,” Tucker continued teasingly, “this is what it means to be Captain.” He pulled Archer’s head down in a passionate kiss; then abruptly pulling away, he cast a coquettish look over his shoulder as he headed for the bed. “Are you coming….Captain?”  
  
>>>>>>>>>*<<<<<<<<<<<  
  
  
Archer woke to find himself comfortably spooned around Trip, with Porthos at their feet. He remembered waking up such in days in what had become ‘their’ flat in the San Francisco Bay area. He reached out to softly caress the younger man’s shoulder. Trip had filled out since they had last been lovers. His shoulders were broader, his chest and arms more muscularly defined. Age had only enhanced Trip’s attractiveness.  
  
Archer had believed he’d outgrown such desires. He had not been with another man since Trip. In fact, Trip was the only man he’d ever had sex with. The only one he’d ever been drawn too. Lord how he’d fought that desire. He had been a guest lecturer for six of the semester classes in a Temporal Quantum Mechanics course during Tucker’s second year in Starfleet Academy. He had noticed Tucker immediately, as Tucker had meant for him too.  
  
Tucker had played it perfectly, Archer thought wryly, very savvy for a young man of twenty-two. He had made himself visible during the lectures, always able to answer any question put to the cadets. Furthermore, after class, he would come up with brilliantly thought out questions and theories, sometimes testing Archer’s own knowledge of the subject. Tucker’s uncanny ability to stay one step ahead of the lectures had Archer throwing in minutiae just for this brilliant young cadet; knowing perfectly well that it was over the heads of most of rest of the class.  
  
Tucker had made it a habit to stop by Archer’s office just as office hours were over, and they spent several evenings discussing a variety of subjects over dinner. Initially their conversations had been limited strictly to the temporal mechanics coursework. Then they had broadened to include their professional histories – why they had joined the fleet, and what their goals were next in their careers. They had always stopped just shy of anything personal.  
  
On the days Archer wasn’t teaching, Tucker occasionally turned up in the lab, where Archer supervised the continuing modifications to the Cochrane warp drive. Again, Archer found himself going out to dinner, or having companionable drinks with this intelligent, eager cadet.  
  
Lazily, Archer ran his tongue over Trip’s shoulder as he remembered their first sexual encounter: It was several weeks after Archer’s last lecture at the academy. He hadn’t seen Tucker since that last lecture, and he found himself missing the cadet’s company.  
  
Then, Tucker had turned up at his door with a bottle of Champagne, two bags of fresh groceries, and a bouquet of fresh cut flowers. He claimed he wanted to thank Archer for the great marks he had received in the Temporal Quantum Mechanics course. He coyly commented that had it not been for all of Archer’s extra-curricular tutoring, he would not have done nearly so well.  
  
Still having a towel in his hand after emerging from the shower, Archer found himself discombobulated as he watched in amazement as Cadet Tucker made himself at home, threw the flowers carelessly in a vase that hadn’t been used in years,  nd began preparing an Italian dinner for the two of them. What Archer had no way of knowing, at that moment, was that Cadet Tucker was making himself at home – in fact, he would essentially move in after their first dinner together; unbeknownst to Archer, Trip’s bags were stowed in the boot of his flitter.  
  
Not unaware of his attraction for the young Cadet, but not wanting (or knowing how) to proceed, Archer wordlessly accepted the proffered glass of champagne, downing it as Tucker offered up an elaborate toast.  
  
They finished the champagne with an antipasto appetizer and fresh French bread dipped in olive oil and cracked pepper. Trip also supplied a wonderful merlot for the pasta and Caesar salad, and they had finished the meal with a sweet white Moscato d’Asti and tiramisu.  
  
Surprised at Tucker’s culinary expertise, Archer had commented as much to the young cadet, “Mr. Tucker – you amaze me. If I had guessed, I would have thought your specialty in the kitchen was steak, baked potatoes and a cold beer, or maybe she-crab soup and turnip greens? Where did you learn to cook like that?”  
  
As Trip had topped off their wine glasses with the sweet Moscato, he had lowered himself on the couch next to Archer. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, Dr. Archer. I may sound like the low country – which I am, but my maternal grandmother was Italian.”  
  
“Ah,” Archer had replied.  
  
“Jonathon,” Tucker began breathlessly. “There was one additional thing I wanted to discuss with you.”  
  
Archer’s eyes had narrowed. He was a tad foggy from the wine, but he didn’t think he was imagining the sudden change in Tucker’s demeanor. He also found himself wondering when they had switched from ‘Dr. Archer’ to ‘Jonathan’, but he was too drawn to the heat emanating from the cadet’s body, and lowered his head, moving closer to the younger man to hear what he had to say, “Yes, Mr.Tucker?”  
  
Even so, Archer wasn’t prepared when Tucker laid his hand on his chest; Archer knew the cadet could feel his heart hammering in its ribcage. “I’m very attracted to you, Jonathon,” he had intoned, leaning forward, his lips grazing Archer’s. “I have been since the first time I saw you in lecture. How do you feel about that?”  
  
Stunned by the feel of Tucker’s lips on his, even more taken aback by the desire pumping through his veins, Archer tried to formulate a coherent response, a sensible response. After all, he was at least ten years this young man’s senior. He had never been attracted to a male before, wouldn’t even really know what to do with one. His mind screamed, ‘Liar,’ as visions of sexual acts sprang into his head, the partner bearing Cadet Tucker’s face.  
  
“Mr. Tucker,” he croaked, as Tucker kissed his chin, moving down to his neck.  
  
“Call me ‘Trip,’” he whispered, his southern accent growing stronger. “All my friends do, and I do believe we are going to be the very best of friends.”  
  
Archer placed his hands on Tucker’s shoulders, yet found himself unable, or unwilling to push him away, “Trip – I really don’t think this is a good idea….I am a good deal older than you, and your instructor…”  
  
“No you aren’t, Jonathon.” Tucker easily dismissed both excuses, continuing to feast upon Archer’s neck, softly nipping and licking, moving the collar of the shirt aside for better access.  
  
“And, Trip,” he admitted feebly, “I don’t know anything about same sex relationships.”  
  
In short order, Trip had proceeded to teach him the most erotic things about ‘same sex relationships.’ Inside a week, Archer felt himself to be a quasi-expert on the matter.  


As they lay together on his bed on Enterprise, Archer knew that more than a few eyebrows had been raised when he had handpicked Trip for this assignment. Because of their affiliation with Starfleet, they had tried to be discrete during the two years they lived together.  
  
Yet Archer knew that there was a certain population within the fleet that knew of their previous relationship, and was concerned about them serving on the same ship. However, Tucker’s engineering expertise was becoming legendary in the fleet and regardless of rumors and innuendo, no one in Starfleet could deny that Tucker was the best engineer to put upon Enterprise for her maiden voyage.  
  
Idly, as he had sometimes done in the past, Archer wondered if their relationship was the reason Tucker had been assigned to Sydney after his graduation from the Academy. ‘Water under the bridge,’ Archer thought – one of his father’s favorite euphemisms. Moreover, like a good soldier, until now Archer had not re-initiated his intimate involvement with Tucker upon his return to the Bay area, as they had busted their asses to get Enterprise ready to roll out of space dock.  
  
After Tucker’s assignment to Enterprise had been approved, Archer had read press releases stating “Captain Archer had acted as a ‘mentor’ to the young Engineer.” Archer had snorted derisively, being acutely aware of whom had ‘mentored’ whom.  
  
Archer stifled a groan as he strained to see the time on his chronometer; his body protesting the onslaught from the night before. While he certainly hadn’t forgotten that Tucker was hung like a damned stud horse, parts of his anatomy apparently had. He recalled from their previous time together that eventually, the soreness would pass, as he became used to receiving a lover again.  
  
He grinned as he continued to run his fingers lightly down Tucker’s side. One thing he had forgotten was that Trip slept like the dead. Peeking over the form of the smaller framed man, Archer saw that not all of Tucker was sleeping. He immediately felt his own cock stiffen in response to his lover’s erection.  “Trip,” he whispered silkily, as he tongued the engineer’s ear.  
  
Tucker moaned lowly, never one to give up sleep readily. He shifted onto his back, and tried to curl up, but Archer stopped him. “Come on Trip, wake up,” he continued lowly, his hands running appreciatively over Tucker’s beautifully sculpted body. He kept an eye on Trip’s erection, watching it grow even harder, quivering like a divining rod, as his hands moved further down.  
  
Considering himself a compassionate sort, by nature, Archer couldn’t stand to see Tucker ‘suffer’ even if he was unaware of it. Wickedly, he lowered his mouth on the throbbing heat that was the core of Tucker’s sexuality, amazed, as he always had been by the feel of warm, quivering velvet under his tongue.  
  
“What the hell?!” Tucker came awake immediately, and Archer watched in amusement, at his sleepy confusion. Archer continued his tender ministrations, and Tucker quickly focused on the matter at hand.  
  
“Good Morning, Cap’n,” he breathed, beginning to rock his hips in time with Archer’s mouth. “Jesus Christ – what a way to wake up……sir.”  
   
 


	2. Peel Back The Layers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter takes place DURING the "Unexpected" episode

“Now how the hell did you know that?” Trip asked Ah'Len, responding in awe, upon her telling him his favorite food was ‘catfish.’

“Now you tell me – what’s mine?” she asked, pleased with his reaction, and pleased with him in general.

“What’s your favorite food?” he asked confused.

“Yes – concentrate: what’s my favorite food?” she asked gently, as if schooling a somewhat slow-witted, but favored child.

“Dutara root,” he replied, amazement still in his voice.

“Your Captain Archer saved your life four years ago….”

“Yeah…” Tucker responded, then – “You find me attractive.”

Ah’Len blushed; what she saw in his mind was not something she knew how to put into words. Instead she commented, “You like people to find you attractive.”

It was Tucker’s turn to blush, “Sometimes,” he said quietly, no longer thinking about the Xyrillian engineer in front of him. He could tell she had seen it too.

Only recently had Trip allowed himself to bring those thoughts back to the forefront. He and Archer had been lovers before --many years ago, when Tucker was still in the academy. They had gone their separate ways only after being posted at what, at the time, seemed to be opposite ends of the galaxy. Even though they had occasionally crossed paths during random training missions, they had never picked up where they’d left off –at least not until a few days ago.

“What is this you feel for your Captain?” Ah’Len asked hesitantly.

“I don’t know if I can put it into words,” Tucker responded.

“Then place your hands back in the pebbles – I will be able to experience it with you.”

Tucker complied, and there he was: Jonathon.

Lights and fairy dust formed an aura around him in Trip’s mind. The colors were vibrant – pulsating.

‘How long?’ Ah’ Len asked, her voice quiet in his mind.

“Forever,” he whispered aloud. Then, silently, ‘for as long as I’ve known him. From the moment I saw him.’

‘There have been others?’ she probed, as she watched images of men and women passing through Tucker’s memory.

‘There have been others,’ he confirmed. ‘But none like him.’

‘Show me how you met,’ she suggested. Ah’Len had the sense of watching from Tucker’s eyes as he observed Archer, who appeared to be lecturing. She felt Tucker’s immediate attraction to the man standing center stage of the cavernous lecture hall. Dressed informally in Starfleet issued coveralls, he appeared so confident and knowledgeable, but he also had a self-deprecating quality that Tucker found appealing –compelling. She could feel Tucker’s autonomic nervous system kick into overdrive with every smile. She found herself flushing warm as blood flooded his genitalia and his cheeks; his breathing grew more shallow, and his palms slick with sweat.

Ah’ Len and Tucker both relived his and Archer’s first sexual encounter, and other special times they had spent in the Bay Area before Tucker’s graduation. She could smell a pungent, earthy scent as Archer and Tucker hiked in ‘Yosemite National Park’, then picnicked beneath the incredibly large ‘Redwood trees’ preserved there.

She tasted the alien food as they ate elaborate meals in ‘Chinatown’, or spent many a night curled up on the couch eating pizzas and watching old movies. They also visited many of the wineries in the area, took tours of the facilities and again Ah’ Len could taste the sometimes sweet, sometimes tart liquid as Tucker and Archer sampled the wares.

Ah’Len felt the caresses of hands and tongues on her own skin as Tucker and Jon made love in the shower and, again, on the beach in Monterrey, out under the stars – even as they talked about moving among them.

Much to her dismay, she experienced a hollow numbing pain, and then the strange feel and taste of salty liquid flowing from Tucker’s eyes. Tucker was packing his belongings, and she knew they were reliving the pain of an inevitable, yet, somehow, anticipated parting.

‘Sometimes the waiting is the worst part,’ she heard Trip’s mind voice speak to her directly. She saw water running down his face even now. Had she been able to do so without breaking the link, she would have reached over to comfort him, his distress was so palpable. ‘It’s okay, Ah’ Len. It is just a memory. It can’t hurt me –not now.’ Quicksilver mind laughter filled her head and she realized that he was trying to comfort her.

Ah’ Len suddenly heard a female voice inside Tucker’s mind. It was vague, indistinct, like a well-worn memory. The voice repeated the phrase Tucker had just murmured, “Sometimes the waiting is the worst part.” Again, she felt pain emanating from Tucker, this time sharp – unexpected.

“Gran,” Tucker said aloud. “Oh my God.” A picture of a beautiful, presumably older, human female coalesced in his mind, and then as Ah’ Len watched, she saw the woman wither. Again, she heard the female voice, repeating the phrase. ‘She was dying of cancer, Ah’ Len. It was a type of disease on our planet that was pretty much wiped out a long time ago. But she developed a strain that hadn’t been cured yet. She used to say that the waiting was the hardest part – waiting for test results, waiting for treatments, and finally waiting to die.’

‘Trip,’ Ah’ Len interrupted gently, ‘shall we stop? I do not wish to cause you pain.’

‘No.’ She could feel a tentative grin reaching out to her, almost like a caress. ‘This is like watching home movies,’ his amazement reached her through the link. ‘I guess I just didn’t realize I still had such sharp memories.’ She heard humor move back into his voice as he continued, ‘We humans don’t tend to have such great recall on our own.’ He faltered, and then more lowly said, ‘It was good to see Gran – just unexpected, so it startled me.’ He smiled at her, physically, and in her mind. ‘I want to continue: even though the next part about Jonathon and me is probably going to be pretty ugly.’

Nodding, Ah’ Len closed her eyes as she dove back into his mind’s landscape. ‘You both decided it was best to end the relationship,’ she stated telepathically. This time she actually tasted the salty liquid again on Tucker’s face.

It surprised her how easily she could read the pain written in every line of Archer’s body–it was so clear to her that she felt as if she could read his mind as well. He, like Tucker, had made no attempt to hide his grief.

‘Yes,’ Trip finally confirmed. ‘We decided our relationship would get in the way of our careers.’

Ah’Len had to stifle a gasp as she felt the anguish in the room as they prepared to part. Archer had wanted to take Tucker to the transport area, but Tucker had harshly refused, knowing he would embarrass them both.

The good-bye was searing, and she felt another physical pain deep inside Tucker’s body, as he and Archer kissed, their soft lips warm, their tongues mating desperately, for what they believed was the last time. The salty liquid – ‘tears’ – ran freely from both men as they embraced and tried so very hard not to sob. The despair Ah’ Len felt from Tucker as he got into the taxi was almost unbearable.

Within Tucker’s mind, the scene changed, and Ah’ Len saw Tucker sitting on a transport ship, destination: Sydney, Australia. Again, she could smell the air, hear the officer calling out names, and feel the anticipation on the carrier, as men and women awaited take off.

She also heard a melody and a verse of words repeatedly running through Tucker’s mind, as she felt the constriction in his chest as he continued to ache from his separation from Archer:

“You left me with good-bye and open arms

A cut so deep I don’t deserve

You were always invincible in my eyes –

The only thing against us now is time…..

“Could it be any harder to say goodbye…without you

Could it be any harder to watch you go, to face what’s true

If I only had one more day……

“I’d jump at the chance

We’d drink and we’d dance

And I’d listen close to your every word,

As if its your last, I know its your last,

‘Cause today, oh, you’re gone……”

‘What is that?’ Ah’ Len probed gently.

‘An old earth tune, a form of entertainment for us: music. Jon was into vintage music. It was from the early 2000 timeframe. A group that went by the name “The Calling.” The song was called “Could It Be Any Harder”.’ I would find myself singing that song at odd times, generally to calm myself to sleep at night. Damn how I missed that man!’

‘But you are together now?’ Ah’ Len asked, curious but not wanting to overstep her bounds. (Writer’s smart aleck response: in retrospect, it was too late for that.)

Mind laughter, relief, joy, and warmth spread through their minds as Trip answered, ‘Yes. We are together again. Finally.’

Ah’Len watched as Trip and Archer reinitiated their relationship, how they had teased one another into submitting. She felt the warmth and desire that Trip had for his Captain, and was once again surprised at its depth and strength.

‘He must be a very special person,’ she called to Trip via the link. ‘You care for him so very deeply.’

‘He is,’ Tucker responded simply, ‘and I do.’

Ah’Len continued to watch as Tucker recalled a moment in their infirmary, just before transporting to her vessel. Feeling the pressure of the injection, as the physician prepared him for the decompression chamber, Ah’ Len heard Tucker teasingly ask Archer, “You sure you don’t want me coming back at night?”

Archer had frowned slightly, and responded negatively, due to the lengthy decompression process, he stated. But Ah’ Len felt the regret run through Tucker.

‘Does your crew know of your…’ she hesitated looking for the appropriate word, ‘intimate relationship?’

She felt a pang of guilt from Tucker, ‘No. And I probably shouldn’t have said that, but the idea of separation from him when we have just recently come back together was painful.’

‘But you aren’t sorry you’ve come and stayed with us,’ she stated the truth, not asking a question.

‘No, Ah’ Len. I’m not. Meeting you has been extraordinary.’

Ah’Len’s communicator beeped.

Smiling, she removed her hands from the pebbles, “Meeting you has been extraordinary as well, Charles Tucker the third,” she stated aloud. “I am grateful you played this game with me. It has given me a keen insight into you – and allowed me to see more of your species and to experience your home world.”

She paused, running her hand over his chin, enjoying his pleasure at the light static charge that flowed from her fingertips, “I will never forget you.”

“Nor I you, Ah’Len. Nor I you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special note re: Lyrics from “Could it Be Any Harder,” ( Kamin, Aaron/Band, The Calling. CD: Camino Palmero)


	3. Unexpected Pleasures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter takes place DURING the “Unexpected” episode.

Upon exiting sickbay, Archer turned to T’Pol, “Uh, Sub-Commander, you have the bridge. I have something to take care of.” He didn’t wait around to see her eyebrow climb up her forehead, as he hurried to his cabin. He knew the minute Trip was released from sickbay, he would make a beeline for Archer’s quarters. He didn’t have long to wait.

The door opened within moments after his own arrival, and unable to help himself he commented, “Trip, I thought I told you to use protection.” He turned to face the portal, not wanting Tucker to see the grin on his face.  
  
“Cap’n! I didn’t lay a hand on her – well not like that! You’ve got to believe me,” Tucker beseeched. Coming up behind Archer, he laid his hand on his lover’s waist, “Jonathon – I would never have betrayed your trust.”  
  
Archer frowned as he heard a break in Trip’s voice, turning he saw his Chief Engineer blinking away tears. “Ah, Trip – come on. I was just joking.” He pulled Tucker to him; genuinely sorry he had teased the other man. “I’m sure this must be a huge a shock for you to have to adjust to.”  
  
“That’s the understatement of the year,” Tucker commented his voice thick with emotion and something akin to fear. “The doctor said I might become emotional and stuff – he wasn’t kidding.”  
  
They stood in a warm embrace, lightly rocking, Trip drawing sustenance from Jonathon. “We are going to find them, aren’t we?”  
  
“Yes.  We’ll find them.” Archer hoped he wasn’t making unrealistic promises. Reaching down, he tipped Tucker’s chin up, “You okay to go back to work?”  
  
“Yes sir, Captain, sir.” He answered with military briskness, but then reached up and pulled Archer’s head down for a passionate and comforting kiss.  
  
“So I’ll see you after dinner?” Archer queried.  
  
“With bells on my toes," Tucker drawled and flashed Archer a wicked smile.  
  
~~~~~

Trip came awake to Archer circling the nipple on his wrist, “Jeez, Jon – what are you doing?” he asked, the area on his arm very sensitive – almost as much so as his emotions.  
  
“Touching you,” Archer responded, his voice deeper having just woken up himself. “Is that okay?” It had been five days since they had discovered Tucker’s pregnancy, and what an emotional roller coaster it had been. It appeared Xyrillian fetuses matured at a much faster rate than human babies did, with Tucker already having a bulge, and Dr. Phlox predicting the baby would be fully developed in seven weeks, at the most.  
  
“Yeah,” Trip relaxed, and turning in the bunk to move next to his lover. “Sorry – I swear these damned hormones are killin’ me. I don’t know how women do it – but I have a healthier respect for them for the experience.”  
  
“See,” Archer said. “There is a silver lining. You’ll be kinder to the mother of your children because of this experience.”  
  
“I AM the mother of my children!” Trip retorted, voice just shy of whiny. He felt Archer’s silent laughter and he poked at Archer's ribs. "You’ve done a lot of chuckling at my expense lately."  
  
Archer leaned over, and lightly licked the extra nipple, causing Trip to gasp in pleasure, “I’m sorry, Commander.” Looking up into Trip’s eyes, he grinned. “For laughing at you, that is.” He rolled his tongue over the sensitive skin again, enjoying the sound of Trip’s moan.

“Jonathon – you’re killing me,” Trip complained, writhing as his erection sprung up.  
  
“You have been exceedingly ‘responsive’ since your…” Archer hesitated a moment.  
  
“You can say it: ‘since my pregnancy’” Trip said, reaching down to release his straining erection.  
  
“Hey, hey,” Archer cajoled him, taking the hot firm shaft into his own hand. “That’s my job. We wouldn’t want you overdoing it and hurting yourself,” he teased, with both words and touch.  
  
Easing himself firmly on his back, Trip sighed, lost in the sensation of Jon’s hand running the impressive length of his cock. “Damn you’ve got the touch. You always did,” he reached up and ran his hand through Archer’s hair. As he rocked his hips to the motion of Archer’s hand, he was content to go slow – having recently discovered that prolonging the pleasure was a sure way to increase it.  And, as Archer had pointed out, Trip’s appetite for sex seemed to be as aggressive as his appetite for food.  
  
In the five days since his “condition,” as he preferred to think of it, was diagnosed, Trip found himself ravenous for all sorts of sensual pleasures. He was eating six times a day. 

Further, just last night he had talked Jonathon into giving him a backrub in the shower, soap easing the friction between hands and naked aroused skin. He was craving chocolate like a demon. Twice in the last two days, he’d sent Archer down to get him some variation of the confection.  
  
This evening he’d begged Archer to rub his feet – so far all of Trip’s requests had been good-naturedly attended to, though Trip noticed Archer trying to cover a smirk with each new request.  
  
The real downside was that Trip found himself increasingly emotional. On duty, it was a struggle to keep from overreacting, or bursting into tears. In fact, just thinking about an incident today in engineering when he had to walk off the floor again brought tears to his eyes, at his lack of self- control.  
  
Archer stopped pumping Tucker’s shaft, and moved up to kiss him tenderly on the cheeks, drying the tears as they fell, “What’s all this, Trip? What’s wrong…”  The warning look from the tear filled eyes, caused Archer to amend his question, “Apart from the obvious: what’s wrong?”  
  
“I’m pregnant for God’s sake!” Trip said “Nothing in my training prepared me for this!” he raised his t-shirt, and pointed towards the pod, growing in his side. “Christ. What the hell is going to happen to me if we can’t find its mother? Hell, I’m already finding it difficult to perform my job without bursting out in tears!”  
  
“Trip, it’s only been five days. We’ll find the ship, I am sure of it. And if we don’t – we’ll work something out.”  
  
“The bulge is getting so big, I’m gonna have to revert to my civvies in order for it not to show.”  
  
"Okay by me, Trip. ” Archer grinned, “But I prefer you in your ‘skivvies.’” He made a move down the bed, toward Tucker's erection, which was flagging not one bit.   
  
“Fuck,” Tucker breathed, as Archer’s warm mouth hit his hot flesh.  
  
Archer pulled away, enjoying Tucker’s groan, “Watch your language, Trip. We don’t want the baby picking up any bad habits…”  
  
“Cap’n…” Trip breathed, “Shut up!”  
  
Archer willingly complied, lowering his head to anoint Trip. He ran his hands up Trip’s sides, knowing that Trip’s pregnancy had made him more sensitive over his entire body. He was careful when passing over the pod, not wanting to do anything to damage the baby within.  
  
They had been using a shea butter and vitamin E oil concoction from Dr. Phlox on the pod, to help ease the stretching of Trip’s skin along his rib cage and side. He knew from experience that Trip was still self-conscious about having that area touched.  
  
Laving his tongue around Trip, he marveled at how it always reminded him of the velvet of rose petals, so soft and sensual. He loved the feel of it in his mouth, loved the taste. Dipping his tongue down, he found the sensitive vein pulsating rapidly, and he applied more pressure with his tongue, causing Trip’s breath to become even more ragged.  
  
Taking as much of his chief engineer as he could into his mouth, Archer began sucking in earnest. He knew what Trip liked, and he was determined to take his mind off his current concerns, if he could, as he formed a a vacuum around Trip’s cock. The engineer writhed on the bed, begging him for release. Archer moved his head more quickly now, enjoying the feel of Trip’s hands in his hair, pulling and pushing, then petting as in an apology when he'd jerked too hard.   
  
Trip came hard and fast, emptying his seed into Archer’s awaiting mouth. Archer swallowed, savoring the taste, and then moved to kiss Trip, knowing Trip enjoyed tasting himself on Archer’s lips.  
  
“Uhmmm,” Trip drawled lazily, when words would come. “Do you suppose all this sex could hurt the baby?”  
  
Archer raised his eyebrow; that was the first time he had heard Trip refer to the pod as a baby. “I don’t know Commander. Shall we ask Dr. Phlox?”  
  
They both burst out laughing at the thought of talking to the seemingly unflappable doctor about their sex life. As Trip went to move, he suddenly stopped, a gasp escaping his lips.  
  
“Trip!” Archer was immediately serious. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Oh my God, Jonathon,” he moved aside his shirt, exposing the pod. “The baby moved.” He guided his lover’s hand to the pod, “It’s kicking.” Tears once again filled his eyes. “I had no idea.”  
  
Jonathon found his own eyes misted over as he too felt the movement inside Trip.  
  
  
  



	4. Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter takes place during "Breaking the Ice" and goes on to include "Civilization." It also includes `memories' from "Unexpected".

'Now why did I tell her that?' Trip kicked himself as he walked back to his quarters. Once in the privacy of his small cabin he flung himself on the grey settee, "What the hell were you thinking? Why didn't you just go ahead and tell T'Pol one of your three serious relationships had been with Archer?"

'Don't you think she knows that already?' a nasty little voice inside his mind piped up. He rolled his eyes, not quite shrugging his shoulders. Reaching up, he half-heartedly rubbed at the stiffness in his neck, wishing he had never started down this path - not with T'Pol, and certainly not in his own mind.

If someone would have told him three months ago that he and Jon would be back together, he'd have laughed in their faces - but prayed to his God that the person was right. If they had then told him that in less than 60 days after that he would be having second thoughts about having reestablished that relationship, he'd have punched them in the face and probably broken their nose.

Rolling his eyes again, he looked around him. He noticed, for the first time, the light layer of dust that had settled on his belongings. For all practical intents and purposes, he only stopped in here to retrieve messages, his mail, and to make an appearance of living here.

Essentially, Trip had moved into the Captain's cabin once they re-instigated their relationship. Jon's cabin was quite a bit larger than his, and while not roomy by any means, it was big enough for them both to occasionally take meals there and to sleep - and to make love.

"You did it again, Tucker," he commented sarcastically to himself. "You made a pass, you jumped into bed with him, and immediately moved in - giving up your space, your independence..." he stopped short of stating out loud what was really bothering him. To have it hanging out there - unable to take it back, would only make it more real. He hated even the idea of questioning his own ability.

Brooding, he walked over to a pile of technical manuals he had brought from home - thinking he'd have spare time. He brushed them off irritably, suddenly hating the neglect that permeated his quarters. It was that same neglect that had helped tip his hand to his shipmates about his relationship with the Captain.

Sighing heavily, Trip's mouth screwed up in a sneer as he commented to the otherwise silent room, "Yeah - that and a bunch of insinuating looks and suggestive comments you made to him. Not to mention getting caught coming back to your quarters by dawn's early light...that couldn't have helped any."

As he made a concerted effort to pick up his cabin, flashes of memories flitted in and out of his consciousness, making him blush. How could he have been so stupid -so damned naïve?

Two weeks ago, he had been seen slipping back into his quarters in the early hours to pick up fresh clothing. Lt. Reed had been exiting his own quarters, a few doors down, as Trip came around the corner. Trip knew his disheveled appearance and a night's growth of beard, coupled with eyes still bleary with sleep were unmistakable signs of having been out all night.

With a knowing glance, Malcolm had raised his eyebrow, a small smile playing on the corners of his mouth, "Good Morning, Commander."

"Morning, Malcolm," Trip mumbled.

"Late night? Working?" Malcolm had pressed, seeming to enjoy Trip's discomfort.

"Let's just say I was busy," Trip rejoined.

"I'll bet you were," Malcolm responded, his voice sounding sly in Trip's ears.

Trip hated the blush that crept up his neck. Then his smart-ass nature had re-asserted itself, and he had jutted his chin out cockily. After all, Malcolm couldn't know where he'd been, could he? "You were headed somewhere, were you, Malcolm? Don't let me hold you up." He had sauntered into his quarters, leaving the Tactical officer standing in the corridor.

And before he left to go help the Xyrillians: "You sure you don't want me coming back at night?" he'd teased Jon, in the presence of T'Pol and Dr. Phlox.

Then his assistant, Dillard, had come by one evening looking for him. Of course he wasn't there. When Dillard showed up at his door early the next morning, Trip had just walked in. Looking around the cabin, at the obvious disuse, Dillard had commented, "Do you even live here?"

Trip knew his face had given something away when Dillard started backpedaling, "Not that it's any of my business, sir. I wasn't trying to pry. Sorry to intrude, sir." He'd left without even telling Trip what it was he needed to see him about.

It was then that he began to be aware how much his and Jonathon's relationship was `shining through' in their interactions while on duty. And he had found himself being increasingly paranoid about it.

Even earlier today, he thought, shaking his head, he knew the look he and Jon had exchanged hadn't gone unnoticed during the taping for his nephew's class when the question of dating had come up.

Somehow, it was different now. When he and Jon had been a couple planet side, it wasn't that big of a deal. He'd never been paranoid or felt guilty about their relationship before, and while they had tried to keep a somewhat low profile, they had never gone out of their way to hide it either.

Trip continued cleaning, attempting to order his possessions much in the same way he tried to organize his cluttered thoughts. By the time he placed the last technical journal in its proper place, he felt pretty confident that he could trace his discomfort to two main issues: One - on a ship the size of Enterprise, when they were obviously giving off signs, it would be damn near impossible to keep their relationship secret and two -the fact that Archer was his commanding officer.

In terms of the first issue: even had they not been lovers - then or now - the crew was aware of his long friendship with Jon. Some of his friends in the Bay area had told him that there were other engineers in Starfleet disgruntled because Archer had handpicked him for the Chief Engineering job. He knew it wouldn't have taken fifteen minutes for that information to spread to his engineering team.

"Sour grapes," he muttered aloud, as he reached for a pair of socks that had somehow gotten lodged behind the desk. "I'm the best person for the job." And he was. There was no doubt in his mind that he was the best that Starfleet had to offer; because if he wasn't Starfleet would have overrode Archer - there was no way they would have put their flagship in the hands of someone they knew wasn't top notch.

That led Trip to the second issue: Archer had been a higher-ranking officer when they were involved before. However, he hadn't been Trip's commanding officer. "I'm a damn cliché; I'm sleeping with my boss!" he commented aloud.

And even though he knew that his motivations were pure - he certainly wasn't sleeping with Jonathon to further his career: he didn't need to - he knew that was what people would say, if they hadn't already.

"And that bothers you?"

Trip whirled, caught off guard, having not heard the door open; he sat the book that he'd been holding down on the desk guiltily. "Cap'n, I...." He shut his mouth, speechless. He hadn't planned on sharing these confused feelings with Jon. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the cloud of pain that flashed across the other man's face.

After a moment of silence, Trip heard Jon sit down on the settee. He opened his eyes; he wanted to take back the ugly words Jon had obviously heard, but he couldn't.

"Trip, I asked you a question," Archer stated quietly. "Does that bother you?"

Trip watched as Archer tried to balance his concern as his Captain against his concern as his lover. .

Sighing, Trip eased his himself down next to Jon. He reached over to touch him, wishing he could do something to ease the pain he had just caused his lover, his best friend - his Captain. "Jon, I know we talked about it before we reinitiated..."

Archer pulled away, standing, agitated, "Yes we did, Trip. We did talk about whether or not the rank was going to be a problem. You said that it wouldn't be." Trip decided not to remind him that they had both denied that it would be a problem. Instead, sighing heavily, Trip merely watched as Archer paced the short eight strides in his cabin, and turned to retrace them once again.

"It's not that it `bothers' me - exactly," Trip tried to make it better, but winced as Archer frowned.

~~~~~~~~******~~~~~~~~

Archer shrugged off his jumpsuit the minute he stepped inside his quarters. The pips were suddenly suffocating. As he threw himself onto the couch, he was grateful when Porthos jumped up and nuzzled his hand. "What are we gonna do, boy?" he asked, rubbing the dog's ears lovingly. Porthos whined, and looked up sympathetically at his master.

Archer complied, leaning down so that Porthos could lick his face. "Thanks, Porthos," he admitted ruefully, " I could use a little affection about now,

The beagle yipped his support, and playfully chewed on Archer's hand. "Okay boy," Archer scooped up the dog lovingly, and made a move to stand, "I get the idea." He fixed a nutritional supplement for Porthos and put fresh water in the beagle's bowl with more care than usual; he was grateful for the opportunity to focus his jumbled thoughts on the familiar - the mechanical.

Still struggling to understand what Trip had tried to tell him, Archer found himself increasingly confused. To him it was relatively simple: they wanted to be together, so they were. `Okay,' he sighed, realizing it wasn't that simple. Nonetheless, he was thoroughly baffled by what Tucker had said. A small nagging part of him wondered if Trip was just making excuses.

While he could agree with Trip that they might not have been as discrete as they could, or probably should, have been, it wasn't like they had a chance in hell of keeping their relationship a secret on Enterprise. But they had talked about that early on and decided they'd just have to deal with it.

Archer sat back down on his couch, staring out at the stars as they traveled past; while beautiful, they offered no answers to his current dilemma. He had anticipated it might be difficult to send Trip into a dangerous situation. Further, they had discussed how hard it would be -for both of them-- if either one of them were to be seriously injured or worse, killed. What he had failed to anticipate, however, was that Trip would be concerned that others would question his ability to do his job as Chief Engineer.

Hell, Tucker was the best Starfleet had to offer. How could Trip doubt that? How could their being involved make Trip discount his own skill?

It killed him to see even the tiniest flicker of doubt in Trip's eyes. Archer knew he couldn't live with himself - with them - if their relationship was going to cause Trip to second guess himself.

"Damn it, Trip. Why can't you tell me what you're really thinking, buddy?"

That is why he had come back to his cabin alone. He needed to think, and he wanted to give Trip the time to do the same. He needed to examine this unexpected curveball and take the time to make sure that he, as Trip's CO wasn't doing anything to make the situation worse.

"As if it could get any worse," Archer mumbled, as Porthos jumped up on the settee and laid his nose on his thigh.

As he reached down to stroke the beagle, Archer shook his head. He just didn't get it. He had known Trip for years and never once had Trip ever been worried about 'what the neighbors might think.'

"But I was never his CO before," he stated aloud. "And for whatever reason, it seems to make a difference." Sighing, Archer turned off the lights in his cabin, moving slowly to his solitary bunk, alone, unhappy, and questioning the decisions he'd made as a person and as the Captain of Enterprise.

~~~~~~~~~~~***********~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days had passed since Jon had caught him 'worrying' about their relationship. Through some unspoken agreement that neither one of them seemed too happy about, Trip had slept in his own cabin; he had come to realize that actually living there was even worse than pretending to live there. Further, they had kept their communication to a minimum during their shifts, giving one another room to let the dust settle, Tucker supposed.

Tucker waited just long enough to make sure that Mayweather and Reed were safely back on board after being snagged from the comet's surface by a Vulcan tractor-beam, before requesting to speak to the Captain in private. "Captain," Trip said, all regulation and polish, "May I see you in your ready room?"

"Of course, Commander," Archer answered in kind, though his tone held something of a question.

As the door slid closed, Trip stood at the military 'at ease' stance. "Sir, I think you made a mistake out there just now. In fact, I believe your prejudice against the Vulcans could have cost you two of your senior officers," he stated matter-of-factly.

"We would have gotten them out," Archer returned firmly.

"Are you sure?" Trip asked, very concerned about how Archer's actions could be interpreted by his senior staff, particularly the two caught on the comet. "Listen to yourself, Captain Archer - "

Archer jolted at the use of his surname, something Trip rarely used.

" - I believe this bias is affecting your ability to command this ship."

Dumbstruck at the allegation, even more so because it came from Trip, Archer's voice rose with each syllable, "How dare you?!" His anger was palpable, "Have you forgotten the Vulcan's treachery at the monastery? Do you suppose the Andorians have?"

"I'll grant you they lied." Tucker conceded, his voice steady, "but we don't know the dynamics between those races, do we? In fact, all I do know about that situation is that your ribs are still tender from the beating the Andorians gave you - so regardless of the Vulcans' treachery, the Andorians don't strike me as all sweetness and light," he drawled.

When Archer didn't respond, Tucker took a deep breath and continued. "In any case - like I told you on the bridge: I don't like having to accept the Vulcans' assistance anymore than you do. But your repeated refusal to accept their help could be interpreted that you'd rather have risked your men. Everyone on that bridge could be wondering if you'd have been so stubborn if it had been them."

Archer stiffened the shock on his face as evident as the rigid set of his jaw. "Trip," his voice was almost a whisper, "you know me better than that."

"Do I?" Tucker responded, voice devoid of emotion. The look on Archer's face struck him like a blow, but he didn't care - he couldn't afford to care. He had to make Jonathon understand how damaging those last few minutes on the bridge had been. After all, that was a major reason Trip had been brought on board. Wasn't that what Archer had told him? Archer wanted him to help round out the Captain's command style, see things with a different pair of eyes - provide feedback when he disagreed with Archer's decisions.

"That is enough, Commander," Archer answered.

"Is it?" Tucker continued pushing. "I sure hope so, Sir. Because as I see it, you've got a potential P.R. problem with your bridge crew - and if you're lucky that's all it will be."

Tucker sighed heavily, before he tackled the question that Archer had really wanted to know: "You want to know how I 'dare'? I'll tell you how I 'dare'. I saw something out there," motioning to the bridge, "that I didn't like. I thought that bringing that to your attention was part of my job. That was why you brought me on board, wasn't it?"

Archer blinked, ignoring Tucker's question. "You are questioning my ability to command," he ground out.

"Its not just me!" Tucker finally exploded. "The entire bridge crew has reason to question your ability to command! How are you going to justify your actions to Mayweather and Reed? Because I assure you they are gonna hear about it - if they haven't already. Because, as you and I are painfully aware, this is a very small ship!" Tucker kicked himself for continuing to allude to their personal problems.

"I don't have to justify my actions - "

"Well, I'll be damned," Tucker cut in. Only having had the code of conduct relentlessly droned into him at the academy kept him from saying, 'We haven't been out here three months, and you're already suffering delusions of grandeur!'

Even so, Tucker could sense the anger surging through Archer's body, and he experienced the metallic taste of fear on his own tongue, as he knew that they were moving at a breakneck speed toward the inevitable. Accepting that it was probably over anyway, Trip shook his head slowly in amazement, "Jesus Christ, Jon, how are you going to justify this to yourself?!"

As if on queue, Archer's face settled into a stony mask, "I think its time you and I take a long break from each other, Mr. Tucker," he said quietly.

"Oh," Trip responded, breathing heavily, his stomach roiling. Even though he'd been expecting it, he was somehow still unprepared. "So now we're going to make this personal, are we?"

"What the hell do you call questioning my command?" Archer volleyed back.

"That, Captain, is professional. That, sir, is my job as your First Officer - Vulcan or no. I'm trying to point out an error in judgment that could be damaging in your ability to command this crew." Trip fought to lower his voice, straining to maintain a shred of proper decorum, though still reeling from the personal blow.

When Archer made no move to respond to his last comment, Trip sucked up his pride, "Fine. And just one other thing."

"Yes?"

"Why did we even start this thing between us again anyway?"

~~~~~~~~~~~**********~~~~~~~~~~~~

Looking up, Travis found Trip exactly where he expected to find him: in his sweet spot, where the ship-normal gravity refused to exist. Grinning, he elegantly bounced off his toes, and then somersaulted upwards towards Trip.

"Show off," Trip said, a smile coming through in his voice as the Ensign settled beside him.

"You doing okay, buddy?" Travis asked, concerned for his friend. The entire senior staff was aware that Tucker and the Captain were fighting about something. Given the fact that everyone on the bridge had heard shouts coming from the Captain's ready room after Archer had turned down the Vulcans' offers to assist Enterprise when he and Reed were stranded on the comet, it was widely assumed that Trip had questioned the Captain's decisions.

Actually, according to the ensign at the helm, the whole bridge crew would have been able to hear the entire fight - word for word - had Hoshi not taken that opportunity to recalibrate the universal translator, which sent an ear-splitting tone throughout the bridge. Travis made a mental note to let Tucker know that the bulkheads weren't soundproof. However, he thought he'd hold off until Tucker didn't look so down.

As Tucker nodded his answer to his friend's question, Travis considered the other rumors that were flying around. While the majority of the crew did believe that Tucker and Archer were mixing it up about the comet incident, a rather vocal minority felt their fighting also might have a more personal bent.

Travis decided to brave the elements, "You heard about Riann and the Captain?" he asked tentatively, referring to the A'kali woman during their last away mission.

"Of course," Tucker responded sarcastically, as he rolled his eyes. "Nothing is sacred on this ship." He didn't add that he was sure that the person who he had heard it from had told him with particular relish.

Tucker's response gave Travis courage to probe further, "You really care about him, don't you?"

"The Cap'n?" Sighing heavily, Trip gave up the pretense. "Yes, I do.

Having not expected an answer, Travis looked away, embarrassed.

"And since you brought it up," Trip sighed, "why don't you just tell me why everyone asks that question with such shock in their voice? Is there something y'all know about one, or both of us, that I don't?"

Chuckling, Travis reached up over and firmly cupped Tucker's shoulder, giving it a friendly, supportive squeeze, "Hey, I got just the thing to take your mind off your troubles: why don't you join Malcolm, Hoshi and me for a hand or two of poker this evening?"

Trip shrugged noncommittally, "I don't know Travis..."

"I promise, it will be fun," Travis said. "No mention of work is the rule. And besides, you'd be doing us a favor. Dillard dropped out - claims he's broke this week. What do you say?"

"Okay, okay," Trip relented. "What time?"

"20:00 this evening," Travis grinned, then added, "At Malcolm's." He paused, searching Trip's face. Satisfied that the engineer was going to be okay, he prepared to take his leave, "I'll see you later buddy. Gotta get back to work!" Travis dove down, towards the regular atmosphere, this time doing a double twist and landing gracefully on his feet.

Tucker shook his head, grinning, "Boomers! You're a bunch of show-offs."

Travis saluted jauntily as he flashed Tucker his most winning smile before disappearing through the Jeffries junction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~**********~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I sure wish they'd get over it, whatever it is," Hoshi remarked, discarding two cards. She smiled her thanks to Travis as he opened a longneck for her.

"Tell me about it," Malcolm agreed, as he dealt the cards. "It is like a bloody icebox on the bridge when they're both there."

Travis snorted his agreement, as he sat a bottle of beer in front of the Lieutenant.

"What gives, Travis," Malcolm turned to him, nodding his head in acknowledgment and thanks for the beer. "I thought you said Tucker was going to join us this evening.

Shrugging, Travis threw up his hand. "Hey, he said he'd be here. What am I supposed to do, go hunt him down?" he asked.

"He's probably in the weight room," Malcolm said. "He's spent the last five nights there - working off some frustration I dare say."

Hoshi frowned, "Maybe we shouldn't be talking about them this way - they are our superior officers, after all."

"In what way praytell?" Malcolm asked pointedly, pleased with the blush that stained the communication officer's features. "Besides, I'm not saying anything about the commander that I wouldn't say to his face - "

The door slid open and Tucker stepped inside.

Malcolm glanced around the table, "Speak of the devil," he commented, his voice silken.

"You been talking about me again, Malcolm?" Trip asked, tone smooth as honey.

"Oh, yes sir. In fact, I was just saying that if you get any more 'ripped', I'll have to assign a security detail to look after you. Half of the crew is already falling all over themselves every time you walk by, as it is. I can't afford to have a riot on my hands," Malcolm finished with a straight face.

Hoshi and Travis choked as they tried to keep from spitting beer across the card table.

Trip leaned against the wall, arms crossed on his chest, a lazy smile parting his lips, "Why Lieutenant, you say the sweetest things."

Malcolm batted his eyelids, "My pleasure, Commander."

Hoshi spoke up as she started to move towards the cooler under Reed's desk, "Get you a beer, sir?"

Tucker nodded as he slid into a chair, "Deal me in, Lieutenant?"

"I'd love to," Malcolm said, a purr in his voice.

Four beers later and 100 credits lighter, Tucker complained, "I don't think this was such a good idea."

"I think it was a GREAT idea," Hoshi cooed, having been the benefactress of most of the winnings this evening. "You're welcome back anytime, Commander. I enjoyed taking your money."

"Now I know why Dillard bailed," Trip grumbled to no one in particular, then turned to face the pretty ensign, "And don't call me 'Commander' after you just wiped the deck with my ass, Hoshi."

Travis grinned at his disgruntled friend, "Want me to pour you back into your cabin, Trip?"

"No, no, Travis. I'm fine - but don't think I won't forget who brought me into this den of inequity."

"Yeah, yeah," Travis responded, obviously not bothered by Trip's threat. "Well, if you don't need me, then I'm off." Travis collected his meager winnings and tossed the last few beer bottles into the recycler. "Same time next week?" he asked to no one in particular.

"You bet," Hoshi and Malcolm chorused back and then chuckled at their own pitiful pun.

Just as Travis reached the door, Hoshi called out, "Wait up, I'm going too." She noted that Tucker made no move to go and shot Malcolm a speculative glance. He responded with a withering look, but then wiggled his eyebrows at her comically.

"I'll make sure the Commander here gets home safely," Malcolm commented, answering her unspoken question.

Once they were alone, Malcolm turned his gaze to Tucker, "Can I get you something, Mr. Tucker?"

Trip looked up, "Trip. Call me, Trip."

"Okay - Trip. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"What? And ruin this buzz? Hell no!" Sighing heavily, Tucker pushed back from the table and attempted to stand on wobbly legs. "Whoa," he mouthed as Malcolm moved to catch him.

Hoisting Tucker's arm over his shoulder, the slighter man slid his arm around the Commander's waist, fighting back half remembered dreams that had become his nightly companions. "C'mon, Commander - "

" - Trip," Tucker insisted.

"Yes, `Trip'," Reed agreed. "Let's get you back to your quarters."

"MY quarters?" Tucker asked, his face close to Malcolm's. "What's wrong with these quarters," he asked. "Haven't you been making overtures all night, Malcolm? I assumed you were in the half of the crew that was attracted to me...that is what you said, wasn't it? Or am I wrong?"

Sighing, Malcolm squeezed his eyes shut, luxuriating in the heat coming off the strong sexy body wedged against his own. Oh yes, he definitely was physically drawn to the chief engineer. And while he knew he would probably hate himself in the morning, he had a strong sense of right and wrong, not to mention self-preservation.

Malcolm's integrity and his professional astuteness kept him from taking advantage of a man who was not only inebriated, but also suffering from what Malcolm suspected had something to do with their commanding officer. "As tempting as it might be - " he stopped as his breath caught when he looked up and into Tucker's beautiful face, "And God knows it is tempting - I don't think you'd be offering if you hadn't had a bit of a row with Captain Archer."

Tucker's eyes widened, and for a moment, Malcolm thought he was going to kiss him anyway. And after all, he was only flesh and blood and he wasn't sure he would be able to resist tasting that sexy mouth.....

Then Tucker nodded, grimly, sighing as he spoke, "You're probably right. I'm sorry Malcolm."

Unable to even take stock of what Tucker had just admitted and even though he'd been the one to initiate the 'not a good idea' Malcolm found himself smarting from Tucker's rejection, "Right. Let's get you home."

They remained silent as they traversed the corridor. Once inside Tucker's quarters, Malcolm palmed up the lights, "Well Commander -" he began stiffly, pride still bruised.

"Malcolm," Tucker interrupted, catching the Lieutenant's hand, pulling him closer. "Don't misunderstand. If circumstances were different -" he broke off, unsure of what to say - what he could say that wouldn't make matters worse. He was amazed, and more than a little depressed, at how sober he suddenly felt.

Deciding that words were inadequate, Trip simply leaned forward and grazed his mouth over Malcolm's cheek. Drawing in a quick breath, he touched Malcolm's lips softly with his own and then slowly moved away. "Malcolm," he repeated. "You were right. If we got involved now it wouldn't be for the right reasons and believe it or not, I'm not in the habit of using people. But even if I were, you mean too much to me as an officer - and a friend - to even think about going down that path. I was wrong, and I'm sorry." He felt Malcolm's heart beating hard and fast inside its ribcage.

When Malcolm remained silent, Tucker exhaled slowly, "It is tempting, Malcolm - but I'm afraid that now's not the time."

Reaching up, Malcolm ran his fingers over Tucker's chin, his body already hating him. He returned the soft kiss, careful not to deepen it, though his senses screamed for him too. "I understand, Commander."

Trip searched the lieutenant's eyes, making sure that he truly did understand, grateful when Malcolm nodded in acceptance.

Backing away slowly, Malcolm cleared his throat. "By the way, Commander. I'd drink some water if I were you, otherwise you're going to have quite the head on you in the morning." Pausing, the smaller man smiled his characteristic half smile, letting Trip know that he did, indeed, understand, "Good night, Trip."

"Good night, Malcolm."

Trip sighed heavily and leaned up against the wall as the door closed after the lieutenant.

"Did you taste me when you kissed him?" a tired voice asked from the shadowed alcove.

Whipping around, Tucker started. "You know, Cap'n, you have a very nasty habit of letting yourself into my quarters at the worst possible moments."

Stepping out of the shadows, the taller man reached over and rubbed his thumb over Trip's lip, "It's nice to know I am so easily replaced," he murmured, and then quickly held up a hand to stave off a response from his lover. "Look Trip, I didn't come here to start a fight....." Archer's voice dropped as he moved in closer, wanting to wipe away any lingering memory of Malcolm that might remain.

Dropping his head to capture the engineer's mouth, Archer experienced the foreign taste of another man on his lips. He shivered. "I'm sorry, Trip," he murmured as he slowly feasted on Tucker's mouth, until all that was left was the scent and the taste that he knew more intimately than his own. "I was wrong - about a lot of things."

Hearing the unspoken, Trip returned, voice flippant, "Did you taste me when you kissed her?" Then he reached up, pulling Archer's head back down, forcing his tongue almost ruthlessly into his lover's mouth. He pulled back and met Archer's eyes, his own angry, full of challenge. "I don't think you did, Captain. You know why?" he muttered, holding Archer's head between his hands, arching back up to take long pulls on Archer's tongue. "I am in your blood, Jonathon Archer. And you are in mine. And no matter what we do, or whom we do it with, it always comes back to you and me. Doesn't it?"

Archer buried his head in Trip's neck, his breath erratic and his silence answering more succinctly and more honestly than words ever could.

Trip knew they still needed to address his concerns about how other people saw him and his ability. But a few nights alone had provided plenty of time to think, and to realize that he had no need to doubt his own skills. Furthermore, people - no, humans, he corrected himself, being what they were would always try to find a way to bring someone else down. If they wanted a reason to talk about him, they'd find one -if it wasn't his relationship with Archer, it would just be something else. He knew he didn't want to live his life running from what other people said about him.

He lost his train of thought as Jon unzipped his jumpsuit, sliding his hands inside to find naked flesh. Trip felt the jumpsuit fall from his shoulders, the cool cabin air hitting the bare flesh now exposed as Archer removed his t-shirt. Allowing Archer to turn him around, Trip moaned as Archer expertly massaged Trip's neck and shoulders, trailing his mouth over the warmed flesh where his fingers had just been.

As he savored the feel of Jon's hands on his body, he also knew that he would still have to answer to Archer for countermanding T'Pol's orders during the Akali away mission. But somehow, with Archer's hands on him, and his own body humming with anticipation after a long week of deprivation, Trip was confident that no matter what they still needed to hammer out, they would do it - together.

>


End file.
